


Films About Ghosts

by Addison R (beyond_belief)



Category: Last Night (2010)
Genre: Epilogue, F/M, Flashback, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Addison%20R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An epilogue to the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Films About Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vinylroad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinylroad/gifts).



> This is sort of a mix of Joanna and Michael at the end of the movie, and Joanna and Alex in flashback. (I'm sorry I could not make up my mind on what choices Joanna and Michael should make about their marriage, so I ended up trying to keep this in the ambiguous spirit of the movie.)

Joanna was on her third cigarette, looking through the window at nothing when she heard the door shut, and footsteps on the wooden floor. It was Michael; she knew his tread. He broke the silence she'd been living in for hours with a soft and simple, "Joey?"

"What are you doing back?" she asked. He wasn't supposed to be home until tonight. She'd been counting on that time to pull herself together. She needed at least until lunch to work up the energy to put on clothes that weren't pyjamas.

Michael seemed to ignore her question. "What's Lucy doing here?"

"We got locked out of Andy's."

"Who?"

"Me and Lucy."

"When?"

"Um, last night when I, um - when I went over to walk her."

"You've been crying, Joey."

 _Fuck_. "A little bit." She swiped at her face again, with the heel of her hand to keep the cigarette angled away. "What are you doing back?"

Michael shrugged. His hands were still in his pockets. "We finished up early."

"I thought the presentation was today."

"No. No, we finished up early," he said again. "I'm sorry about our fight."

She swallowed hard. "Yeah, so am I. Let's not talk about it, okay?"

"All right." He shrugged again, a slighter lift of his shoulders than before. "Well, you know, let's have a great lunch and - you know, let's walk. Let's, you know, make a day of it."

She nodded. "Okay."

Lucy barked, and Michael looked down at her. "Does she want to go out?"

"Probably."

Lucy woofed again and pushed her nose into Michael's hand. He scratched behind her ears, then said, "I'll take her."

Joanna ground out her cigarette and slipped off the counter. Michael caught her - gently - as she rounded the island. "Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered back, letting herself be drawn into his hug and wanting to cry, for the third time since she'd said goodbye to Alex. Just thinking his name made her shiver. Unknowing, Michael stroked her back, touched her hair softly, and whispered that he loved her.

He pulled back slightly and looked at her, his eyes searching in that way that she knew meant he wanted to ask again if she was all right. Wanted to ask if something had happened, if something was wrong. She could open her mouth and tell him everything right now.

"Weren't you taking Lucy out?" she asked instead.

"Yeah, yeah I was." He let go of her and stepped back, reaching for Lucy's leash where it hung on the coat rack. He still looked like there were questions waiting on the back of his tongue, but he just smiled at her again and crouched to attach the leash as Lucy whined in anticipation.

Joanna curled her hand in the lapel of her robe. "I'll just - get dressed, and then we'll get lunch?"

"Yeah." He kissed her cheek. "Be back in a few."

When the door had closed behind him, she sank down on the sofa, looking around their flat, at all the things that had made this place home. The rows and rows of books. The piles of magazines, all somewhat orderly, organized after a fashion. Vases that had been wedding presents. Their seven years in pictures, minus that eight month gap. _Weren't you happy here?_ she asked herself. _You were. You will be again. Remember all those good times, Joanna. Why tell him now if you haven't already?_

She got up and went to dress.

*

 _It was a ridiculous place to meet for drinks, she knew. Alex had suggested it, because his hotel was close and because he wanted to take notes on the atmosphere for something he was writing. But he kept his notebook in his pocket the whole time they sat close together in one of the dim booths, as he asked her about the wedding and Michael and if she was happy._

 _"So happy," Joanna told him, unable to keep the smile off her face. "What about you, have you been seeing anyone?"_

 _"Sort of," he replied, making a so-so gesture. Joanna caught his hand and squeezed it._

 _"I want you to be happy, Alex. I want you to feel just like I do. It's the loveliest feeling in the world." She knew she was gushing but couldn't help it. "What's she like, this woman you're seeing?"_

 _"She's not a writer," he said with a laugh, and Joanna scoffed in intentionally fake surprise before laughing as well._

 _Alex lifted his drink and sipped it for a moment. Then he looked at her with a serious expression. "I'm sorry for how I was, when we were together last."_

 _"No, no -"_

 _"Just because I don't have to be sorry does not mean that I'm not," he interrupted her, with that self-effacing smile. "But I wanted you to know that it wasn't your fault."_

*

A sweater and yoga pants were the most effort she was willing to put forth, but she'd pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and was putting her shoes on when Michael came back. "Should we bring Lucy with?" he asked as she tied the laces.

"Yeah, there's a cafe down the street that will let us bring her in, and then we can walk her back to Andy's. If he's home. Or wait, don't you have keys?"

"I have keys." Michael smiled at her as she pulled on her jacket. Then he reached out to help her wrap the scarf around her neck. "I like this, is it new?"

"What?" She rubbed the material between her fingertips and their hands brushed. "Yeah, I got it last week."

They walked down Thompson Street. She had to fight not to hold her breath as they crossed the spot where Alex had called her name. _Was it only yesterday I stopped here for coffee and baklava?_

With conscious effort, she tucked herself a little closer to Michael. "You cold, baby?" he asked.

"No, I'm all right." They kept walking until they reached the cafe. Lucy laid down on the floor underneath the table as they ordered coffee.

"So, how was Philadelphia?" she asked, picking up the menu.

"Nothing to write home about." He reached across the table and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, and Joanna met his gaze in surprise. "You sleep alright? You seem... I don't know, a little jumpy."

"Yeah, no, I - I had a late night, too much - too much wine with dinner, and then I couldn't sleep." It wasn't exactly a lie. She hadn't wanted to fall asleep, laying on the bed with Alex. She gave Michael a small smile. "Just tired, I guess."

"Okay."

*

"Did you finish the article on the pearls?" Michael asked, after they'd ordered the lunch special and it had been brought out, roma-and-mozzarella paninis paired with small, crisp green salads.

"Sort of," she replied, making a face. "I stretched it out, a bit. It doesn't feel done, but... I guess it's mostly done." The sentence ended more like a question, and Michael gave her a skeptical look.

"Did Jeff sign the contracts?" she asked, knowing she was deliberately changing the subject and hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"I left Andy to settle those details."

"That doesn't sound like you," she said, carefully looking at her sandwich for a moment before taking a bite, the toasty bread giving way with a crunching sound. She licked the slick olive oil from her lips.

Michael pushed his fork through a few pieces of lettuce, then seemed to give up on it and set the fork down. He drained his water glass. "I just wanted to get back."

*

I'm sorry to hear about the break-up. You could come to Paris for a while, _the email from Alex had read._ Get out of your life for a bit.

 _Paris was tempting. She'd loved it all the other times she'd been there. And this beautiful man was suggesting she come, and forget about Michael and the breakup and the general mess her life had been for the last few weeks. Her exams were done and she had some money tucked away. She could go._

Come whenever you'd like, _he wrote._ There's almost always someone in the apartment, so even if I'm not there, you can get in.

 _A teenager who introduced himself as Alex's cousin answered the door, wearing a screamingly bright green t-shirt and holding a cigarette. "Come in, come in, put your things anywhere," he said. "Sorry, Alex is in Italy for a few days. Florence, even."_

 _"Oh," Joanna murmured, disappointed. "I can find someplace else -"_

 _"No, no. Alex would kill me if I turned away his guest. He should be back tomorrow. I am mostly staying here to watch the place while he's away." The cousin, introducing himself as Rafe, turned and gestured for her to enter the apartment. He disappeared into a bedroom after telling her to make herself at home._

 _Joanna looked around for a moment, then shrugged to herself and curled up in a corner of the couch. She had a couple books to read, and writing that she should probably get done._

 _Rafe left after a while, saying he probably wouldn't be back but she should sleep in Alex's room because it was the cleanest. "I'll make do," she told him with a laugh._

 _Alex was indeed back the next day, walking into the bedroom as she lay in the afternoon sunlight reading the newspaper. He swept her up in an embrace that felt like he was gathering all the broken-feeling parts of her back together. Joanna rested her head on his shoulder. "Hi."_

 _"Sorry I wasn't here."_

 _"No, it's okay, I've gotten some work done - it was nice, actually." She smiled at him. "What about you, were you working or on vacation?"_

 _"My editor, he invited me to stay at the villa he's been renting. Sort of - hide away for a while, try to finish my book." Alex made an exaggerated face. "Then I got too distracted by all the beautiful things Italy has to offer, and neglected my work."_

 _"So you didn't finish?" she asked, and he shook his head. Joanna felt bad for intruding. "Oh. I probably shouldn't have come, then."_

 _"No, it's all right. And you know what it's like, and hopefully won't hold it against me when I'm distracted by all the words in my head." He squeezed her around the shoulders, then kissed her temple. "I can take a day or two away from it. That might help, even."_

 _"I don't want to distract you!"_

 _"No, no. We'll take a couple days and wander around the city. My book is set here, maybe I need a - a refresher."_

 _He smiled at her so winningly that Joanna had to smile back, and nod. "Okay. That sounds nice. I'd like to just... not think for a while, you know? Your suggestion that I get out of my life sounded perfect. All I've done for the past few weeks is be upset."_

 _"Then we'll have to change that. Starting with something to eat, and some wine. Come on."_

 _They went to dinner and talked about everything and nothing - about Alex's book and his indecisiveness about the ending, about the short story she was editing to submit to a magazine, about hers and Michael's decision to take some time away from one another. "I feel like - maybe Michael's confused about where his life is going, and what he wants out of it. He started a new job a few months ago and I couldn't tell if he was happy with it or not."_

 _Alex gave a shrewd look over his forkful of risotto. "So it was not as mutual as you tried to say at first?"_

 _"No, it was. I have my own stuff to figure out. But part of me was still hurt that he agreed we needed some time apart."_

 _"Ah."_

 _Pointedly, she said, "I didn't come here for you to be a rebound relationship, Alex." He needed to know that. Joanna was fine with letting things go where they would go, but she hadn't come here to... to_ use _Alex in an attempt to forget about Michael._

 _"I hadn't been expecting that," Alex replied. He reached across the table and touched the back of her hand gently. "Whatever happens, happens - yes?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Drink your wine, it's good."_

 _She did. It was good. They finished the bottle and ordered another, took it with them back to Alex's apartment. Joanna let him take her to bed, wanting someone to make her feel good and loved for a while. And why shouldn't she?_

 

*

"Really?"

"Cross my heart," he replied.

Joanna looked at him. Really looked at him. Thought again to herself, _Why tell him now?_. Looked at him long enough that he interrupted her self-interrogation, asking, "What is it? Jo?"

"And things with Laura?" She couldn't stop herself from asking the question, keeping her eyes on his face. And she watched his eyebrows go up, slightly, in surprise.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes. Fine." He took a sip of his coffee, then shook his head. "For Christ's sake, Joanna, just ask what it is you want to ask."

Michael was giving her permission. That had to mean something. Joanna kept her eyes on him, watching his familiar face and kind eyes, and found - she didn't want to know. She wasn't ready to accept the change that would undoubtedly come upon their marriage if she learned whatever it was Michael was offering to tell her. It was a chasm she wasn't ready to find a way to cross.

"Are _you_ all right?" she asked instead.

Michael blinked, the question obviously not what he'd been expecting. "Jo?"

"Seriously, Michael -

"You were crying when I came in the door and you're asking me if I'm all right?" He reached across the table to touch her wrist, thumb sweeping over her pulse.

Carefully, Joanna set her sandwich back on the plate. Michael's expression was confused, and concerned. He'd always cared how she felt, even when he didn't understand it. It was one of the things she loved the most about him. She turned her hand over to squeeze his fingers. "I'm sorry I'm a mess lately," she said, making a face. "I've been a horrible jealous bitch, and I'm sorry."

He stared at her, his hand around hers so hard it nearly hurt. "Me too."

*

 _"Let me ride with you to the airport," Alex said, looking up from his laptop as Joanna zipped her last bag._

 _"But you're working, and I don't want to interrupt that. Besides, I think I can get to the airport by myself - I got here from there, after all." She didn't say_ don't come with and make this harder than it is, _but it must have shown in her face, because Alex got up from the desk and slid his arms around her waist._

 _Joanna put her arms around his neck and let her fingers drift through his hair. "Thank you."_

 _"For what?"_

 _"Everything. It's been lovely."_

 _"But now time to go back to real life." He reached to brush her fringe to the side. "It has been lovely, though. I've really enjoyed our time together, Joanna. I'm sorry we can't have more."_

 _She sighed, saying, "I need to go home. And you need to finish your book. So - I can get to the airport by myself, and we shouldn't make a production of this, okay, Alex?" She pressed her mouth to his, briefly. "Email me?"_

 _"I will."_

*

"I love you, Michael," she said, and meant it. And suddenly she wanted to cry, and had to swallow hard and drink half her glass of water to cover it.

"Your sandwich is getting cold, baby," he whispered.

Joanna shook her head, pulling her hand back and choking out, "Excuse me," before fleeing to the ladies' room. There, she locked herself in a stall and frantically wiped away tears.

Michael was waiting outside the door when she came back out, with Lucy sitting at his feet. Joanna bent to pet her so she could avoid Michael's gaze for another few seconds.

His hand settled gently on the back of her neck. "Joey."

She fought the urge to apologize another thousand times. "Come on," he said, before she could speak at all, "let's walk Lucy back to Andy's, okay?"

*

 _"Oh, Joanna, you should meet Alex," Patrick said. "He's also a writer. But in French."_

 _"But my French is terrible," Joanna protested, as Patrick steered them around with a hand on her elbow, to bring them face-to-face with a smiling, bearded man who elbowed Patrick gently in the side._

 _He said laughingly, "I do speak English," and kissed her hand. Joanna felt herself flush. "And Patrick, it's clear now you didn't read my last collection, because it was in English. Mostly. Joanna, was it?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _Patrick looked delighted, and clasped both their shoulders. "Alex, you must entertain Jo for me; I've got to run downstairs and check on the wine, I'm afraid Christopher will have drunk all the red."_

 _He turned and left them there, Joanna feeling awkward as they looked at one another. "I guess I'm to keep you entertained," Alex said, a smile playing across his face. He was cute, she had to admit._

 _"So what do you write?" she asked, because that was a safe topic; she could usually keep a person talking for quite a while about what they did for a living._

 _"Fiction."_

 _"Well, what kind? Murder mysteries? Science fiction sagas?"_

 _He smiled again. "My last book was a series of short stories about a French detective living here in London," he said. "Before that, a novel about a family from Avignon; they owned a vineyard."_

 _Joanna turned her wineglass slowly in her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't read it."_

 _She was used to apologizing to other writers for not having read their work. To do so was almost second nature by now. There were thousands of them in the world, more than she could ever discover in her lifetime, but most she met seemed slightly offended when she said she'd never heard of them._

 _But Alex simply shrugged. "Don't be. We've only just met. And very few people read it besides - I only published in France."_

 _"I had a professor once who was mad at me for not having read his books before taking his class," she confessed, more to her glass than to him._

 _He chuckled, rolling his eyes. Then his hand settled gently on her arm. "What about you, what do you write?"_

 _"I've just had a few short stories printed in a few tiny magazines," she said, shaking her head. "Patrick exaggerates. I keep trying to tell him that the college's literary journal isn't the same as being_ actually _published."_

 _"No, that's beautiful," Alex insisted. He poured her some more wine. "You're beautiful."_

 _Joanna felt herself blush, and laughed a little nervously. "Um, thank you."_

 _"Would you like to sit down?" He gestured toward one of the clusters of chairs scattered around the rooftop patio._

 _"Sure." She thought about telling him about Michael, but she'd only met him five minutes ago, and it was possible he was just being nice._

 _They ended up talking the whole night - about writing, books, music, everything. It was nearly two in the morning when Joanna stood up to go find the bathroom, and wobbled slightly. Alex caught her around the waist. "All right, Joanna?"_

 _"A bit tipsy from the wine, that's all." She patted his arm. "I can walk if I take my shoes off."_

 _"Sure," he laughed, and held on to her while she tugged the high-heeled sandals one at a time off her feet. "You're coming back, yes?"_

 _"You can hold on to my shoes as insurance," Joanna called over her shoulder as she made her way carefully to the stairs. Through the propped-open door, she could see Patrick and Christopher doing some sort of drunken waltz downstairs, laughing and tripping over one another._

 _"Leaving, Jo?" Patrick asked as she passed them._

 _She shook her head. "No, just using the ladies' quick."_

 _"You've been up there with Alex all night, keeping him away from our other guests. Are you going home with him, then?"_

 _Joanna shook her head again. "That wouldn't be very becoming of me, now would it?"_

 _"Darling, we wouldn't tell," Patrick said, laughing, and then laughing some more as Christopher got tangled in the rug._

*

"So what do you want to do?" Michael asked, as they walked slowly down West Broadway.

"Walking's nice."

"That's not what I meant." He looked at her evenly. "What do you want to do about us?"

She pulled her scarf a little higher around her neck. _I don't know._ "Ask me again tomorrow."

Michael leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Okay."

They kept walking, taking the long way around to Andy's flat. She leaned against his shoulder to shield herself from some of the wind. Her gaze caught on little details of buildings as they walked past. Above, the sky was a pale gray and rippled with low clouds. It looked like it might snow. That was how her book had started; in a snowstorm. Two people in a taxi that had just skidded to the side of the road.

Joanna glanced up at Michael, wondering. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Do you even remember what my book was about?"

"Of course I do, Joey," he replied, hand rubbing gently over her arm. "It was about us."


End file.
